Adagio In D Minor
by TheRedHerring760
Summary: Red carefully lifted the cover and glanced down at the long forgotten instrument. She takes a step forward as his fingers grip the thick material whipping it off. - Liz requests Red play her a song (One-Shot)


Disclaimer: I own absolutely 0% of The Blacklist.

I'm merely borrowing characters, giving them a go, and then I promise they will be returned into their proper positions once finished. Though I may suddenly "misplace" Red and keep him for myself...

Prompts used for this story...

- Character breaks a personal rule.

- Character A reveals a hidden talent to Character B

* * *

Her boots clicked against the wood floors and echoed off the walls of the room as she moved toward its center. Her flashlight sweeping from side to side exposing all the particles that floated in the stagnant and mold enriched air. "Red?" she called into the dark, doing another sweep.

She gasps loudly when she turns and finds him in the doorway. A soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. "God-" she utters, clasping a hand over her chest.

"Not quite." He replies back sarcastically, Liz shines the light onto his hand that reaches for the wall and with a flick of a switch the baronial room is illuminated.

She is awestruck by the hidden beauty her small light kept hidden from her. The deep mahogany walls and marbled gold wallpaper, the red velvet curtains just slightly exposed beneath the covered windows. Liz then glances upward to the wood tiled ceiling, and the two chandeliers that hung low. The scrolls were like woven branches that span down and out into three tiers, allowing the festoons of crystal and glass shades of different angular shapes to cascade down. She hears Red move further into the room and move around her. "This place is beautiful," she speaks in admiration. "What happened?"

"Time, economy - Take your pick." He mentions quietly, she turns her eyes down onto him. Surveys as he heads over to an old piano by the large window that was covered in a white sheet.

Red carefully lifted the cover and observed the long forgotten instrument. She takes a step forward as his fingers grip the thick material whipping it off. There was a crack from the canvas fabric breaking through the air as it sent off heavily settled dust hurdling her way. She coughs as she inhales the particles. "Sorry." he apologizes lightly, but his attention seemed to be firmly set onto the piano as he lifts the black cover exposing the keys.

Red takes a seat at the bench, his fingertips hovering over them with a stern contemplative look upon his face. He strikes at a single white key and the note pangs out loud and fast. Lingering around the room, then gradually decaying over a short amount of time. He huffs a short bitter laugh before testing another key, then a set of three. He shakes his head lightly.

Liz takes a few short steps toward him, drawing him out of his inner musing as his attention focuses on to her movements. "Do you play Red?" she questions and then watches as a look of sorrow filters throughout his features.

Liz swears his eyes brim with tears for a moment before they are cast away just as quickly as they form.

"I haven't in a long time." Red's voice was impossibly thick, filled with the deeply concealed emotions. He shifts on the bench, and couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. So she invades his space and takes a seat down beside him. His hands that grip the edge of the bench become pale, but his face remained passive.

"Why haven't you?" She inquires delicately, her outer thigh brushing against his as she moved off the edge of the seat and closer to him. He's soundless for a long time, and Liz is sure that she wasn't going to receive an answer.

Until Red inhaled sharply breaking the impregnated tension, he forced his gaze from down at the keys to staring into her with such a painful expression it took her by surprise. "I can't," his face contorts as he turns his focus back downward. A fragile nod, another sharp inhale through his nose, and his eyes lock back onto her own. "I couldn't bring myself to."

His answer only peaked more interest on Liz's end, but she didn't want to gouge any further in fear he would potentially shut her out completely. "Would you," She hesitates as she holds his eye contact. He swallows, and she pushes further. "Would you play for me?" He diverts his eyes from hers as if he caught sight of an imaginable horror. He slides further away, and her leg burns from the sudden loss of contact.

After a distilled moment of consideration his firm grip on the bench loosens, until he lets go completely. His hands ascend until they are lingering an inch above the keys. His chest rising and falling strenuously as his eyes slipped shut while Red fought through inner anguish.

An unexplainable guilt twist within Liz for pushing him into this corner, she wishes she never requested it. "You don't-" she voices, watching as his body gave way to a tremble that was just barely noticeable. Red's fingers then fell gently, not enough to rouse a noise from the piano. Just a gentle touch upon the keys. Liz became enchanted by his fingers that lay against the ivory.

The silence of the room was deafening as she sat in nervous anticipation.

Red's fingers flexed until ebony was also being touched. His wrist rocked, swayed and suddenly the voice of the notes carried. The first few notes were detached, his right hand playing a soft staccato melody while his left accented with delicate chords in a lower frame. All staying within the same stable key range, low and haunting. Arousing goosebumps to ghost along her flesh, and a chill to take form. Spreading like wildfire until she was quivering beside him.

He stays in this eerie zone for several long measures. Then it began to pick up ever so slightly, his left was now accenting the same staccato notes as his right. The pair waltzing back and forth.

The bass of his left hand pulsating through her veins, and altering the beat of her heart until they both set to the same pace. The warm sound eliciting a raw emotion deep from within her, ripping it to the surface furiously. When Liz chances a look over at Red his eyes were shut and squeezed distressingly tight.

The whispery notes sang softly in harmony, but then his left began leading a new feverish dance. It was relentless in its pursuit of the right. Forcing the notes to be quicker, sharper. The crescendo was building, setting for a volcanic eruption. His hands moved with precision over the ebony and ivory, his left hand climbing back and forward. Fingers twisting over each other as they scaled pushing harder into the climax. While the right struggled, staying in it's sensitive frame refusing to give into the left.

The music swelled, vibrating through her body. The notes of his right now clashing with the notes of his left. Like they were battling each other for unseen dominance, all while she sat between them allowing the dense rich notes to wash over her. The pained expression on Red's face was too much to endure. So Liz turned her head away and focused on the tiled roof. Feeling a prickle of tears begin to form as the emotion the song and Red transmitted coursed through her.

The chords that followed the climax were jagged and pained. The left wavered as his right hand won out, the left tired of its fight and fell back into the quiet lulling of the beginning. The gentle and delicate caressing of single notes and chords. Leaving Liz suspended by a rope high above the ground.

She feels a tear fall softly down her cheek as the song reaches its end. Her arm lifts on its own accord and Liz settles her hand onto his forearm squeezing gently.

His muscles tense beneath it. "She used to play." he mumbles the words, tying them together in one compressed knot.

Liz scarcely understood them.

His eyes were open now, staring but not seeing. Lost in his own mind, or perhaps his memories.

"My daughter," he says more clearly after clearing his throat. Those two simple, gently ushered words had the ability to pull roughly at the strings of her heart. "She used to play." This time as the unmistakable tears fill his eyes, Red doesn't blink them away. He allows Liz to see the sequestered man beneath the outer projected image. To openly be exposed to the inner turmoil that laid in a smothered heap below the rough exterior. "I swore to myself I never would touch a piano ever since-" he swallows down the last of the sentence.

"Red, I-" she initiates but the words cease. There are no words that could be shared in this moment, as new tears fall from her eyes involuntarily. His hand cups over top hers on his arm, pries it off gently.

"I don't deserve comfort." He spoke in a voice that didn't resemble his.

It was distant and isolated. It was of infinite grief.

* * *

_I meant to have this out several days ago, but unfortunately work had other plans. As always reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated, and all mistakes are mine. _

_The saddest songs are those written in D Minor... They tend to be the most hauntingly beautiful pieces. When writing this I had Red's set to the tune of D Minor. _

_- Red Herring_


End file.
